


The M-squad: Wes is the Ultimate Heist Man

by Arialis



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: (Maka Albarn), (Nakatsukasa Tsubaki), Gen, Minor Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans, Resbang 2018, Soul Eater Resonance Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 09:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16992288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arialis/pseuds/Arialis
Summary: Wes didn’t choose a life of crime, it chose him. A heistfic featuring Soul (surprisingly put together), Maba (the gran with the van), Masamune (makeup magician), and Maka (???).Wes and Soul set out to steal Medusa Gorgon’s prized gem collection, but first… they need a crew. Enter: Maba and Masa, with occasional cameos from Soul’s neighbor Maka (The neighbor he’snotpining for, right? The same one that maybe-probably-definitely likes him back?) and frequent shenaniganery.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the a b s o l u t e l y stunning art in this fic is done by the wonderful Tilliquoi (my resbang 2018 partner)!!! The original post can be found [here](http://tilliquoi.tumblr.com/post/181127780648/my-contribution-to-rebang-2018-my-author-partner) ! It was a joy working with you, and thank you so much for the gorgeous art!

December 24, 2018 | 13:15:34

He wakes to a bright light in his face and his wrists handcuffed to the chair behind him. The cell - Interrogation room? Torture chamber? It's hard to tell - stinks of cigarette smoke, and he finds himself coughing out, “Are you threatening me with lung cancer to get me to talk?”

There’s no response. He settles back against the chair as comfortably as he can, resigned to waiting in silence.

Then something shifts in the shadowed end of the room, and Wes gives them an easy smile. “Hey, detective. You’re a detective, right? What’s up?”

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble for us, you know.”

“What’d I do?”

The probably-detective looks like something out of an old noir film, to the point that Wes wonders if he purposely tries to be this stereotypical. “Don’t play stupid, Gerard Wesley ‘Wes’ Evans. We know what you did, and we’ve got all the evidence we could ever need. Just sign the paper and let’s get it over with already, yeah? Make everyone’s lives easier - you’re all for that, aren’t you? Your type always is.”

“Oh gee, you know my full name? Is that supposed to be an intimidation tactic? Lemme tell you, it works about as well as the threat of emphysema - which is to say, not at all. You just sound like my disgruntled mother.” Wes shakes his wrist, rattling the handcuffs against the metal chair. “And - I'm not sure if you know this, so brace yourself for a shocking revelation - I can’t sign anything while trussed up like a Christmas turkey.”

The detective snorts, utterly exasperated, but stands up and moves behind Wes.

As the cuffs click free, Wes raises his hands, rubbing his wrists and looking around more easily. The walls are a solid gray concrete, with the one to Wes’s right covered in a giant mirror that is probably a one-way window. “Thanks.”

The probably-detective just drops a pen on the table, smirking. It rolls across the sheaf of papers already there, looking so thematically dramatic that it makes the cheeky grin Wes shoots him actually real.

“I want a lawyer.”

The detective’s smug smile falls away. He slams the door on his way out of the room.


	2. The Beginning

November 27, 2018 | 16:13:42

He was walking down the street towards his apartment when the call came. Wes juggled the groceries as he dug out his phone, eventually managing to answer just before it went to voicemail. “‘Ello?”

“Are you trying to pretend to be British? Wasn’t once in that phase enough for you?”

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t talk about that, and it’s not like you’re in a position to mock anybody about embarrassing phases,” Wes retorted, scowling at nothing. “Did you call me just to make fun of me?”

“As entertaining as it is, no. I found a new place.”

“To live or to… you know?”

“The latter. Though I _should_ find you a new place to live, this one’s a dump,” muttered Soul, the clacking of computer keys trailing after his voice like an echo.

Wes frowned. “Excuse you - I don’t see you living in the Ritz.”

“Yeah, but at least there’s nothing potentially growing in my bathroom. Or the fridge.”

“I’m literally going grocery shopping right now, lay off. When are you coming over to talk about plans?”

“I’m already on your couch. Hurry up, old man.”

Rolling his eyes, Wes walked faster nonetheless, excited. “Why’d you find one?”

“Because you get antsy if we don’t do anything interesting for a while, and I don’t think your bingo shenanigans count as something interesting. Also, you need money.”

“And you don’t? You, what, live off magical fairy dust?”

“I freelance, genius. I may be a mess in every personal sense, but at least I’m not broke.”

“Freelance? As if you have the temperament for that.” Despite his annoyance at Soul’s neverending teasing, Wes smiled proudly at the reminder that his little brother could probably take down Fort Knox by himself. Or, well, himself and a lot of caffeine.

Soul responded only with a harumph. Wes chuckled as he stopped in front of the side door to his building.

“Hey, buzz me up, will you? I don’t have enough hands for this.”

“Become an octopus, then. It’s not my problem.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Wow, you don’t sound like Mom at all.”

Even as Soul grumbled dryly in Wes’s ear, the automatic door began to swing open. Wes ducked inside, relaxing at the warm blast of the heater. “Thanks.”

There was only more muttering in response, then Soul hung up.

The whole ride upwards in the rickety elevator, Wes bounced on his heels. He knew that if Soul was suggesting a place, he probably already had the rough outline of a plan, if not more. When the doors slid open, Wes bolted out, practically running down the hallway. The apartment door was already unlocked when he got there, crashing open when he banged into it as he rushed inside.

Soul looked up from where he was sitting on the coach, a slice of bread in his mouth. “Someone’s unsatisfied with their daily life, clearly.”

“Shut up. Did you even toast that?”

“No.”

“You’re such a lazy bum.”

“I’m the lazy bum that’s going to make us rich,” Soul corrected, smirking as Wes dropped his groceries somewhere on the floor and hurried over to lean over the back of couch.

“You… can’t be serious.”

On Soul’s screen was a some dinky museum in Boston on the history of taxidermy. “What? No, that’s just something I was looking at.”

Wes raised an eyebrow. “ _Why_?”

“Long story, don’t ask.” Soul switched over to another tab, this one open to New York City’s Fire Museum. “I really want that vintage fire truck,” he said innocently, tilting his head over the end of the couch and looking up at Wes with wide eyes. “Come on, man, please? I can’t do this one without you.”

He dropped his face in his hands, feeling almost ready to sob in exasperation. “You got me all excited over _this_?”

“Please?”

Wes made the mistake of glancing through his fingers at Soul’s pleading eyes. “Fine! But then we have to actually do a good job!”

His jaw dropped open in horror when Soul fell off the couch, cackling like a demon. “I can’t believe you actually agreed! You’re nuts!”

“I hate you. Get out of my house.”

“This is a dirty closet at best,” Soul gasped out, still laughing. “And don’t worry, I did actually have a plan.” He hit something on the keyboard and the computer switches to a photo of a sprawling mansion.

“Medusa Gorgon,” Wes said flatly, staring at the screen. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his little brother. “Are you done messing with me yet?”

“This one’s for real! I promise.”

And maybe it was stupid to believe him, but Wes was hopeless. Besides, Soul really did look earnest this time, at least in between his random fits of giggles.

“Alright. So, you want to rob Medusa Gorgon, the famous scientist. _Why_?”

Soul hit the keyboard again. This time the image that came up was of a long series of diamonds in glass cases, backlit by lamps and refracting light all over the dark hall. “Her gem collection, my dear brother. _That’s_ why.”

 

* * *

 

Soul ended up staying the night because, for all his complaining about the abysmal state of Wes’s apartment, Soul still wasn't above crashing on the couch.

As he stumbled into wakefulness to the coffee machine, Wes couldn't help but muse that somehow his place turned into a library overnight. Soul liked working on paper, as counterintuitive as it might seem for a hacker, and he’d brought a lot of his early drafts for the plans with him, along with a large map that showed every possible dirt road around the Gorgon mansion. The map was spread out across the kitchen table, while the rest of the papers and notebooks were strewn on the coffee table by Soul’s couch. The same coffee table that Soul would probably hit his head on at one point or another if he kept sleeping the way he was.

After gently nudging Soul’s head aside, out of danger and into what was probably a more comfortable position, Wes got down to business. Specifically, the business of making cereal, because apparently Soul finished the last of his bread and Wes was too sleepy to look for it in the grocery bags he’d left on the floor.

Wes was switching between typing out notes on his phone, staring out into the distance thoughtfully, and forgetting to eat his cereal, when his little brother eventually woke up. He stumbled on his way, but somehow still managed to fall into the chair across from Wes with a minimum amount of tripping over the mess they’d left on the floor. Lying his head down against the paper-covered table surface, Soul let out a long, pathetic groan.

He made a sympathetic noise. “Insomnia?”

Another groan. “You. Eat.”

“What?”

Soul’s hand flopped in the general direction of the cereal bowl as he let out one last long-suffering moan before looking up, a hand holding his messy hair back and out of his face. “Your cereal’s going to get gross if you don’t eat.”

“What a transformation - you’re suddenly human.”

“And what was I before?”

“One of those troll dolls,” Wes said, starting to eat again when Soul glared at him.

“I’m still that, just without the psychedelic color scheme.”

“No, that’s Maba’s van.”

His little brother stared at him in confusion. “You want her in? Why?”

“Because Gorgon lives in the middle of bloody nowhere-”

“Yeah, so she can do her human experiments in peace, though it’s not like she doesn’t have the cash to pay off anyone who starts nosing around anyway,” Soul muttered under his breath.

Wes gave him a dry look. “You’ve been reading too many conspiracy theories. Go outside. Breathe some air.”

“I’m inside and breathing air right now.”

“I don’t think this is _air_ so much as dank gas at this point.”

“So you admit your apartment is a disaster?”

“I never even argued it, just that it’s not as bad as you were saying,” Wes replied as he stood up to drop off the dirty bowls in the sink. “And yes, we need Maba. Her van, anyway, and she’s not letting that monstrosity out of her sight after last time.”

“It’s not my fault you told me to drive!”

“You should’ve learned to drive when you were sixteen like everyone else!”

“Oh, so now you’re going to be busting me about something I didn’t do when I was just a teenager? Join the club,” muttered Soul sullenly, making Wes roll his eyes as he scrubbed the dishes.

“You’re _still_ just a teenager.”

“You’re still more of a mess than I am.”

“It’s true, but you shouldn’t say it.” Soul snickered in the way he did when he was amused but didn’t want to be, and Wes smiled to himself as he dried the dishes and turned on the coffeemaker. “Besides, Maba’s helpful to have around. I’m pretty sure that woman can do anything.”

“Why can’t she help you find a job, then?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “She did - you know the reason I’m here is student loans. And ADHD meds.” Soul didn’t respond, only shrugging, and Wes commented offhandedly, “You’re such a killjoy for your age.”

“I’m already eighteen, though.”

“And the fact that you put ‘already’ in front of that says it all, doesn’t it?” Wes just laughed at Soul’s confused expression, setting down a cup of coffee in front of him. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Not to be stuck here,” he said grouchily under his breath, taking a sip and letting out a relieved sigh. “Ah, thanks. This is some good stuff.”

Setting his hands on his hips, Wes asked, utterly fed up, “Okay, so what’s your suggestion?”

“We’ll go to my place. And we can hit up Maba on the way, if you really want, though I’d rather wait until we have a more solid plan so we know what we need to tell her.”

“You really think she’d double cross us?”

Soul shrugged, standing up and starting to slowly gather his papers together, stuffing them into random binders. Wes just watched, knowing that if he tried to help or reorganize it, Soul would complain endlessly about not being able to find anything later, even if the filing system made sense to everyone else. “I’m not saying she _will_ , just that it’s a possibility.”

And Wes would ask what made him so wary and untrusting, but he already knew the answer, and it’d hit too close to home to bring up this early in the morning. Or at all.

Letting out a long breath, Wes finally agreed. “Alright, we’ll migrate to your place.” Disregarding Soul’s snort and the echoed, “Migrate,” he went into his room and started packing for a long haul, knowing he probably wouldn’t be back any time soon.

 

* * *

 

By the time they were getting breakfast at a cafe on the walk to the subway, Soul was even grumpier, though this time it was from hunger and nothing more. (Of course, he still felt the need to bully Wes into eating again.)

The guy at the counter blinked in surprise as he wrote on the coffee cup. “What’s Wes short for?”

“Western. My brother is Soul.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t see the connection?”

“As in the music genres.”

He chuckled while Wes took his food thankfully, rejoining Soul at the end of the bar as they waited for their drinks. “Your full name’s not Western.”

“No, but it’s fun to mess with people, isn’t it?”

Soul rolled his eyes, but didn't comment any further as they left. They ate as they walked to the metro, where Soul promptly put on his headphones and ignored Wes.

Wes didn't bother trying to talk to him, instead watching Soul's thoughts play across his face in a way probably only Wes really knew how to read - or maybe he'd just been the only one to ever bother to try. To Wes, Soul was obviously thinking about the heist, maybe already planning how to get through whatever digital security Medusa Gorgon had, relying - of course - on Wes to supplant Soul's software with whatever hardware he might need.

When they were above ground again, Wes nudged Soul's shoulder, startling the boy into raising a curious eyebrow. The motion drew Wes's attention to the dark shadows under Soul's brilliant red eyes, and Wes had to resist the urge to mother-hen his little brother. Instead, he said, "So, what do you think we'll need?"

“I can handle getting through her tech security, though if she’s any smart - and she definitely is - she’ll have regular locks and things like that too. And probably door locks that aren’t connected to the mainframe, so you’ll definitely need your password hacker. I’ll work on updating the tech on that, since we haven’t used it in a while.”

“Do you want to go with disguises for this one? Like, maintenance or something?”

Soul chewed his lip as he thought, and Wes had to catch his shoulder to stop him from walking into traffic. “Not for the actual heist - a ski mask would be good enough for any random unconnected cameras she has, and Gorgon does all her security in-house. She wouldn’t believe us if we claimed to be doing that sort of thing. We might need it to get access to her in person, though.”

“And why would we need to do that?”

“Because I’m pretty sure the lady keeps a lot of passcodes on her phone, and it’d make my life a thousand times easier.”

He frowned. “It might be more dangerous, though.”

“Well, I suppose we can wait for me to just crack all her codes, but that might take another couple months and that’s way too long to concentrate on just one job. She updates her security every once in a while too, so by the time I get through it, it probably won’t matter anyway.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll get in touch with Masa.” Soul scowled, but nodded in agreement. “What? You don’t like him?”

“He makes fun of me,” he muttered, looking away.

Wes patted his shoulder sympathetically, promising, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t tease you too much, okay? But he only does it affectionately.”

“Threatening to toss me out a window is affectionate?”

He shrugged, letting Soul sulk. “We need him anyway, though - he’s good at gems. He’ll have to check if the ones we take are real or fakes put up to fool people like us.”

“Because makeup and rock appraisal are the most natural hobbies to pick up at the same time, aren’t they?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “You can invite your girlfriend, too, you know, if that’d make you feel better."

"Maka isn't my girlfriend. And you make it sound like we’re throwing a party."

"Yet you knew exactly who I was talking about," he replied, cackling at Soul’s betrayed expression.

"Wes!"

When Wes’s laughter faded, Soul continued dryly, “Maka’s not my girlfriend. Also her dad’s a cop."

“That makes things difficult, yes, but not impossible. It’s not like we’re inviting her dad.”

The face Soul made at that was utterly priceless, and Wes founding himself cracking up. “No!”

“Eh, fine,” he said, stepping through the double doors to Soul’s apartment building. “We still need Maba.”

“Do we really? Doesn’t Masa drive?”

“Masa’s car isn’t going to survive the trip.”

Soul pouted. “But her van is _psychedelic_.”

“Yeah, and it’s the best we’ve got, so suck it up. She can help me with the climbing too, since Masa is utterly helpless at any kind of physical activity.” At Soul’s frown, Wes added innocently, “Or he can wait in the car as the getaway driver so we can get in and go as soon as possible.”

“You just want him there so he can creep me out the whole time I’m waiting in the van.”

“Why do you always have to go and foil all my plans, dear brother of mine?”

“I’m not that dear if this is how you treat me,” Soul answered dryly, but chuckled anyway at Wes’s mockingly devastated expression as they stepped off the elevator.

That amusement instantly fell away when they turned into Soul’s hallway and saw a blonde girl standing at the door next to his. It was almost concerning how quickly his face turned red, though Wes had already heard so much about her he wasn’t surprised.

When she noticed them, she beamed so bright that Wes dryly guessed Soul’s feelings probably weren't one-sided. “Hey! What’s up?”

The sheer wattage of her existence seemed to have short-circuited Soul’s poor brain, so Wes stepped in like the good older brother he was. “Hi, sorry - he’s been up a long time. Soul’s not usually like this, I promise he has a brain.”

She made a sympathetic noise, expression softening. “Insomnia, again?”

Wes’s eyes widened for a moment before he got his expression under control. “More like an all-nighter project," he said lightly. "I’m just here to make sure he actually goes to sleep, so see you later. It was nice meeting you!” Waving goodbye, he practically shoved Soul into his own apartment before the interaction could get any weirder. As Wes shut the door behind them, his younger brother buried his face in his hands with a long groan. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, it was. Don’t even pretend otherwise.” Soul dropped onto his couch with a frustrated whine. “Sometimes I’m totally normal and functional! And then sometimes I just freeze up and my brain dies completely.”

“Dude, if she cared how awkward you were, she probably wouldn’t be worth it anyway,” Wes replied, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “And, for the record, I don’t think she does. She just seemed worried about you.”

Soul just groaned, dragging a hand across his face. He said instead, “I’ve got a plan for dealing with her security, but I need time to work on that. Do what you want - get in touch with Masa and Maba and tell them to clear their schedules for end of December, deal with your job, make yourself at home, I don’t know. You know where everything is, right?”

Wes nodded, watching silently as Soul dove into his backpack and passed him a few binders, keeping the rest to begin working on Gorgon’s security software.

He stayed that way until Wes plied him with food and water a couple hours later, prying him away from his work and to the kitchen table with a stern look. While they ate, Wes offered his thoughts on the heist, including their best route into the house and what systems Soul would need to compromise. Plotting out every detail was difficult work, especially since Soul was a complete disaster at staying organized, but Wes knew what he was doing, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Because, sue him, he likes working and spending time with his brother. And the reward at the end of the finish line is pretty nice too, of course.


	3. The Planning

November 29, 2018 | 11:37:09

Wes didn't have to contact Maba after all. She contacted _him_ , though admittedly not about the heist.

A telltale rumbling roared out of the phone speaker, and he’d known her long enough that Wes could almost _see_ her with her sunglasses on, rolling down the street on her skateboard.

“Boy, you would not _believe_ what happened today.” She followed her announcement with a loud sip that had Wes cackling.

Wes would warn her to be careful, but despite her age, she probably had better coordination than him and Soul combined. Smiling, he replied, “Hold on, babe, lemme get my tea.”

Soul gave him a weird look from the living room, expression akin to a confused cat’s, but didn't comment. Wes waved him off absently.

As Maba told him about the farce of a neighborhood drama she’d just had to witness, Wes couldn't help but grin at her eclectic manner and how utterly _warm_ she is.

Maba was the one everyone looked to when weird things just _happened_ , but she was sweet and kind, if just a bit odd, and nothing that occured was ever harmful, so people left her be. Her advice might have been a little tough-love, but sometimes that’s just how it had to be - it was the only thing that had sorted Wes out, and even Soul to an extent, after all.

Though, of course, Maba and Wes both knew why she was so affectionate (in her own way) with them, and Soul probably at least suspected, though Wes doubted that he'd bothered to confirm it.

“So, then Lucy’s telling _me_ that I need to step off and mind my own bloody business, and I would! I really would! If it wasn’t for the fact they were having a shouting match practically in my living room! I have the right to tell them to take their issues elsewhere, or go to a marriage therapist, if they’re about to throw down right in front of my salad!”

She filled up the space in their lives where their own grandmother used to be, before she vanished and their parents refused to talk about her anymore. Wes had been in the middle of gearing up to leave, with Soul following soon after, and he’d guessed even then that Gran had supported them. She'd always just wanted to see the boys happy, no matter what form it took.

Maba wasn’t the same as his memories of Gran, far from it, but she was kind, and she cared for them - especially Soul - in a way nobody else did, could, or wanted to anymore.

Wes would be an idiot not to be grateful.

After she finished, three cups of tea later on Wes’s end, he said, “Hey, you busy next month?”

“Why?”

“We might have a job for you.”

“Oh, some employment? That sounds nice. It’s not like I’m retired or anything.”

She was teasing him, but Wes knew she didn't like to sit around and get bored, and the fact that Maba hadn’t shot him down yet meant she was up for it, even if she hadn’t said as much. Turning to Soul, he mouthed, “She’s in!”

Soul nodded in satisfaction, grinning to himself mischievously.

 

December 02, 2018 | 12:07:23

Wes began to understand what Soul meant about the teasing about a minute after Masa walked through the door. He greeted Wes with an easy smile and their old handshake, then turned to look at Soul, who was lying on the couch with a tablet in his lap and a phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear. "He looks like a suburban mom juggling too much work and too many kids with that setup, except for the fact that he's still in the scene phase everyone else got over in 2008. Or is all that eyeliner just his eye bags?" Wes winced as Soul whipped around to scowl at them, even though Masa's comment wasn't entirely wrong.

(He loved his little brother, he really did, but the boy resembled a raccoon too much for Wes to honestly defend him.)

“Your brother's making fun of me again,” Soul said into the phone instead, flatly staring Masa down.

Soul pulled his phone away from his face so they could all hear the very tired " _Masa_ " from the other end.

"Sorry, sis," he replied, glaring at Soul.

When Soul smirked back, Masa raised his hand. Wes instinctively caught it, frowning. "Oi, no - none of that."

Masa blinked at him slowly. "Do you really think he hasn't made that gesture himself before?"

"So you’d let me flip off Tsubaki?"

"Thanks, Tsu. That helps with the problem," Soul said in the background, both older brothers turning to him in surprise when he laughed. "Both problems. But yeah, thanks, you're the best. See you next week."

When he hung up and clambered over the back of the couch, nearly tripping on the way, Masa asked, "What did she do?"

"Helped me think through a problem I was having with the security. Don't worry about it, we're fine."

Maba walked through the door behind them just in time to get hit in the face by the paper airplane Soul threw at Masa.

"That wasn't meant for you!" he yelped when she scowled, throwing his hands up in innocent surrender. "I thought he'd catch it!"

Maba squinted at Wes suspiciously as she handed the airplane to Masa to unfold and read. "You're too skinny,” she declared. “Eat." He rolled his eyes, but she didn't seem to care, only marching forward and grabbing Soul's face, pulling him down to glare him in the eye. "Don't throw things, and get more sleep. That terrible makeup isn't good enough to hide it."

Soul pulled away, glaring back at her as he said, "Leave me alone, will you? You're not my mom."

"No, but I'm old enough to be your grandmother. So listen to me when I give you advice, I don't say it because I don't mean it."

Wes would have warned her if her could, but it was too late now, and suddenly - if unsurprisingly - Soul was closed off, shutting himself away from them. Stepping out of her reach, he dropped back onto the couch, sifting through the papers on the coffee table until he found what he was looking for. Even Masa picked up on the change when he spoke again, but Wes shushed him with a look. Soul’s voice was clinical and detached - cold, almost - as he went through the plan, flatly outlining every step.

The brothers had figured out what everyone would be doing a while ago, and given the relative straightforwardness of the job, this was less of an idea-bouncing session and more of a debriefing of what they’d be doing, unless anyone noticed an issue the brothers had missed.

By the time they left hours later, Soul wasn't so icy, anymore - just tired.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

Wes gave him a hug and left him alone to go to bed, even though it was barely four yet. Whether he slept or not, he still needed the rest.

Alone in the kitchen drinking tea, watching as the darkness set around him and too exhausted to get up and turn on the lights, Wes thought back to when they were kids, and wondered if any of this was ever anything but inevitable. Maybe if their parents had been supportive, maybe if Soul hadn’t pushed himself so hard he completely shattered, maybe if Wes hadn’t led the way by leaving when Soul was still just eleven… But in the end, those all felt like inevitabilities too, because Wes didn’t know if he was brave enough to have endured the pressure without a guarantee Soul wouldn’t have to. He hadn’t had that guarantee, then, and he still didn’t.

Maybe he should’ve stayed, or maybe it might’ve lead to the same thing anyway. Maybe Soul would’ve left on his own and Wes wouldn’t know him anymore because he’d have left them completely behind.

In the end, despite all the possibilities and maybes and ‘what ifs’ in the world, Wes couldn’t see a way out of this where they didn’t end up broken, one way or another. At least this way, they were together, alone in every sense but this one. At least this way, Wes didn’t have to fake his smiles, and Soul still knew how to grin at all.

 

December 07, 2018 | 21:15:16

Nicking Gorgon’s phone was surprisingly easy.

She was a woman who liked her public appearances, and it was charitable of her to show up in public and give talks about how her technology works to educate the people. Or, it would be, if she wasn’t clearly there just to sell it to the armies of investors that showed up at every talk, crowding out the normal people. Her snobbishness was also problematic.

“Gorgon’s only there to show how much smarter and _better_ she is than the rest of us because she’s brilliant and made herself rich off it,” Soul grumbled, angrily eating chips as he watched another recording of one of her talks. “Like, yeah, she’s _earned_ her money, but at what cost? And she’s still a horrible person who does inhumane experiments in the forest.”

“How many times do I have to tell you - you will _not_ become a conspiracy theorist, Soul.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll cry!”

Soul rolled his eyes but paused the video, twisting around to look at the other three.

Across the table from Wes, Masa worked on Maba’s face, carefully altering her features until she was unrecognizable even if someone did pay attention. The plan was simple - Maba would pretend to be a cleaning lady, bump into Gorgon before the event, and steal her phone. Then, she’d pass the phone along to Soul, who’d be waiting nearby, ready to scour it for all possible hints and information. As soon as he could, he’d give it back to Maba, who’d leave it somewhere not too obvious but not too hidden, letting Gorgon believe she’d simply momentarily misplaced it.

“Makeup Mastah Masa,” Soul quips, turning back to his screen, earning an amused snort from Masa.

The plan went off without a hitch, so smoothly that Soul was almost suspicious, but even he calmed down when no one came after them and nothing pinged on his radar.

 

December 10, 2018 | 17:10:09

During another meeting, the four of them gathered outside Maba’s van in the parking lot by Soul’s building to gauge how much room they had to pack equipment.

They stood in a row, staring at it with something like horrified awe, when Soul said flatly, “This van looks like someone took a pound of LSD and went to town painting while watching Scooby Doo with the solarizing filter on." Then, as if realizing something, he slowly turned to Maba. “Is that what happened?”

She just sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to will away an impending migraine. “I'm old. Things happened. Let's move on."

Maba didn't even look that disgruntled at Soul’s jokes about her car, but Wes still glared at him and scolded, “Look, this van is the only reason we can heist at all - be polite."

“Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s strategically advantageous? Gotcha,” the snot replied brightly, shooting Wes a cheerful thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

“Shut up, Martin Solomon.”

Soul glared at him for a moment before turning to open the back of the van. As he did, someone behind them asked slowly, “Uh, what’s going on?”

“My life has gone off the rails and I’m paying these two nutcases to kidnap me to Jamaica,” Soul replied dryly, hoisting himself into the back of the van and wincing at the noise it made in protest. “Assuming this monstrosity will last that far anyway.”

“You can’t drive to Jamaica,” Maka replied, clearly a little concerned Soul has lost his mind.

Wes and Masa exchanged amused looks but dragged Maba out to the front of the van anyway, giving the two a bit of privacy, though it wasn't like they couldn’t still hear the whole conversation anyway.

“I’m aware of this.”

“Are you sure you really want this to be your plan?”

“It’s the best I’ve got, ain’t it?” Wes peeked around the side of the car and grinned to himself at the sight of Soul’s smile, and how utterly relaxed he was. Maka’s expression was partly hidden by the van doors, but it wasn't much different, and it was frankly adorable.

“Good luck then, I guess. Well, I’ve gotta go, so see you later!”

She left with a wave, and suddenly Masa was sidling around the car to stare at Soul. “Weren’t you really embarrassed about someone seeing you in the van? You kicked up such a fuss about it earlier, and now you don’t even care that your girlfriend just saw you in it?”

Soul scratched his cheek thoughtfully before finally answering, “I’m surrounded by people and situations that are completely uncool all the time, so it doesn’t really matter how cool _I_ actually am. I’ve accepted it, and I don’t care anymore. Do what you want, bring your worst - I’m done.”

“I can’t tell if I should be proud of concerned about this progression of thoughts,” Wes said, leaning against the van door by Masa.

Soul shrugged before turning back around and climbing deeper into the van. “Someone make a note, you guys need more cushions because we’re not all going to fit in the front row, and it sucks back here in terms of seating.”

Masa’s eyes narrowed. “You say that like it’s not going to be you in the back.”

Soul grinned at him mischievously as Wes replied sadly, “It’s not.”

“Why?”

“Because I get carsick, and Wes doesn’t want to have to clean it up while I’m throwing my guts out on the side of the road.”

Masa nodded slowly, then turned to Wes. “Honestly, that’s pretty fair. I don’t want him throwing up all over the back even though I _don’t_ have to clean it up.”

“If you’re throwing up in my car at all, I’m leaving you out there,” Maba said sternly, frowning at him. “No vomiting.”

“You say that like I get a choice in the matter.”

Wes couldn't help but snort at that as he climbed inside the van along with Soul, ignoring Masa’s odd look. “Do you think you’ll have the space for your computer?”

“Definitely - I’m only planning on bringing a laptop, anyway. Maybe a tablet, too.”

“Aren’t tablets pretty useless for hacking?” Masa asked curiously, standing at the van doors.

Soul gave him a dry look. “ I’m going to be stuck in the middle of a forest in an empty van for an hour while y’all are running around inside a mansion. I need something to keep me entertained - the tablet’s for Love Live, my stamina's almost full.”

“Why are you like this?” asked Wes, resigned. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Because Masa has given me too much salt about everything under the sun for me not to wind him up at every available opportunity,” Soul answered, grinning cheekily until Maba got in the driver’s seat and the car shifted under the added weight, sending him toppling over onto his backside.

Masa laughed at him until he choked on air.

 

December 16, 2018 | 21:00:45

Wes isn’t even surprised anymore that they all stay for dinner.

Someone ordered Chinese food, because they might've been working on a job, but they weren't rich yet. Maba decided they needed to eat more healthy so there was also a metric ton of soup and vegetables with it. Did Wes know _why_ exactly she’d made it her personal mission to keep them as healthy as possible? Well, not exactly (though he did have a guess with a good amount of evidence to back it), but he was mostly just resigned at this point. At least he wasn't alone in trying to make sure Soul would have working arteries past the age of twenty-five.

They were all at the small dining table, elbows nearly knocking together every time someone took a bite, when Maba leveled Wes with a look and squinted at him suspiciously. “What kind of a name is Wes, anyway?”

“Short for West,” he replied, smilingly genially at her. “Soul is from South. We had an eclectic mother, as you can imagine, since our last name is North.”

He kicked his little brother when he snorted into his food, but Maba seemed to take Wes’s word for it in favor of glaring at Soul for his lack of manners. Soul shot Wes a dark look for getting him in trouble again, but Wes just shrugged and mouthed, “Sorry,” when she wasn’t looking. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made, after all.

Masa came to the rescue with a distraction when he asked absently, “Why didn’t you ever get a tongue piercing, Soul? Between all the cuff earrings and your general attempts at style, it seems like the kind of thing you would do.”

Wes looked up in alarm, glaring at Masa for potentially giving Soul ideas, while Soul hummed thoughtfully and said, “Honestly? I thought about it. Like _really_ thought about it.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Wes demanded, turning to him, utterly scandalized.

Soul shrugged. “Eh. I already knew you were going to tell me you didn’t want me to. What was the point in asking?”

“So I could tell you ‘no’ to your face!”

Chuckling, Soul waved him off. “Don’t worry, I didn’t do it. You would’ve noticed by now, anyway. I was standing outside the parlor and everything, though, thinking about it, ready to open the door and go in, then suddenly there was a police siren wailing down the street and for some reason my brain went ‘They’re after me!’ and I bolted.”

Masa howled with laughter as Wes glared at Soul. Maba just looked tired.

“Why are you all such disasters?” she asked, more to herself than anyone there.

“Do you think we’d be doing this if we had our lives together on any level?” Soul said instead, gesturing vaguely at the mess his apartment had become over the course of their planning to a chorus of amused chuckles.


	4. The Heist

December 21, 2018 | 22:25:27

It had been a long and excruciatingly bumpy drive, but at least they were finally there. Somehow.

(The real miracle was that no one murdered anyone else out of sheer boredom.)

As they got ready to move out, quietly checking their equipment and making sure it was in the proper bags, Soul just did his best to stay out of the way while the other three bustled around him.

“Hey, Soul, this is the one for me, right?” Wes asked, leaning over the back of the shotgun seat and holding up a box with wires hanging off it. 

Frankly, it looked disturbingly similar to a bomb, but Soul just nodded from where he had squashed himself between the back of the driver’s seat and a crate of Masa’s odds and ends. “Yeah, when you get to the vault just slap that on there like one of your face masks and it should be good to go.”

“No wonder your skin is so good, you actually take care of it - no one’s that perfectly flawless naturally,” muttered Masa absently, giving Wes an annoyed look. “And then I do the same and I’m still stuck with this mess.”

“Masa, your face is gorgeous, and now _really_ isn’t the time.”

Maba gave Soul a dry look from the back of the van, and he couldn’t help but snicker at her utterly exasperated expression. Then, upon checking his computer screen, Soul tilted his head in confusion. “Why isn’t anybody using the trackers?”

Awkward silence descended for a moment before Masa started uncomfortably, “Well, they’re… uh, tricky?”

“I made these for _everyone,_ why is only Wes wearing it?” he answered irritably.

Maba was blunt, unsurprisingly. “Because he's the only one who can actually _use_ it.”

“I _told_ you, you gotta up your GUI game,” Wes chimed in, still rummaging around in his bag, unafraid of Soul’s offended glare. “I’m used to figuring out your nonsense; not everyone is.”

“It’s efficient!”

“And unusable!”

There was a knock from outside the car. Everyone fell deathly silent, faces paling in surprise and horror.

No one moved until a voice outside called dryly, “I know you’re in there.”

Masa threw open the back door of the van to reveal Maka standing in the moonlight, hands on her hips in exasperation. Her annoyed expression shifted into surprise when she recognized Soul. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, what are _you_ doing here?” he asked slowly, glancing between her and Wes, eyes widening with quickly-growing panic.

“I asked you first!”

“Children, please - we’re all here to rob Gorgon. Let’s move on. Maka, sweetie, what are you here for, specifically? Because we’ve got dibs on the gems,” Maba said instead, ruthlessly cutting through their dithering.

Maka stared at her for a moment before answering faintly, “Her research notes and chemicals. It’ll set her back years.”

“Ha! I told you she only lives out here so she can do illegal human experiments!” Soul exclaimed suddenly, startling them, and whipped around to glare at Wes. “I _told_ you!”

Wes flapped a hand at him. “Fine, fine, you told me, whatever. What’s your plan for getting inside, Maka? We can work together if you want, or at least make sure we don’t get each other caught by mistake.”

“Wait…” Soul started slowly, brow furrowing in confusion as he ignored Wes’s perfectly reasonable question. “Where does your dad think you are?”

She stared at him blankly. “He knows? Papa’s a thief too; why wouldn’t I tell him?”

Masa clapped a hand over Soul’s mouth to keep him from shrieking, while Wes bit down on his fist to avoid laughing too loudly. “I can’t believe you thought her dad was a _cop_!”

“Look, he regularly walks around in a police suit with handcuffs, I don’t know - what was I _supposed_ to think?”

“Have you ever _seen_ a real cop?” Wes shrieked, howling with laughter even as Maba shushed him and Masa stared in bewilderment. “Okay, on second thought, maybe it’s for the better you haven’t asked her out; are you really sure you want a guy who’d wear a fake police suit - no offense, Maka - as your father-in-law?”

Soul now resembled a tomato more than was probably healthy, but Maka had long since climbed in the van to sit next to him and was grinning in amusement, so Wes wasn’t too worried about the state of Soul’s relationship affairs. “Shut up!" Soul spat. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Maka buried her face in her free hand, the other loosely holding Soul’s, and groaned just audibly enough that they overheard, “Why do I like this dork?"

Wes grinned at her. “Because he’s the best!”

She looked up, blushing but nodding fervently. “True, though!”

Soul stuttered to a stop, seeming to realize he was somehow holding hands with her and she just admitted to liking him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person actually, visibly, blue-screen before,” Masa commented, leaning in to look at Soul’s vacant expression.

Shaking his head in disappointment, Wes said sadly, “Sorry Maka, but I think we’re going to have to get going if I want my brother at all functional at any point tonight. You two, mind catching her up on the way to the starting point? I have to sort out… this, first.” He gestured vaguely at his brother.

Maba snorted. “Alright, sounds good. C’mon sweetheart, your boyfriend is a disaster but that’s not your fault.”

“Well, it kinda is,” muttered Masa, hopping out of the van after Maba. “Her taste is odd.”

“Oh, be nice!” she scolded, the two rounding the back of the van and moving out of sight.

Maka pecked Soul’s cheek and he gave her a brief hug, a slow smile blooming on his face. Wes watched in amusement as they pulled away a heartbeat later, red-cheeked and shy.

She ducked out of the van and Wes reached forward to mess up Soul’s hair. “You alright? And congratulations, even if it probably didn’t go how you wanted it to.”

“Bro, I didn’t think it’d happen _at all_ \- I’m okay with this, honestly,” Soul replied, beaming brighter than Wes had seen in a long while.

Wes grinned at him. “Good. Take your wins when you get them. Anyway, do you think you’ll have to change much to account for her?”

He shrugged, expression fading into something more serious as he looked back at his laptop. “Probably not. I’m assuming she had a plan to get in and out without getting caught.” Nodding, Wes followed the other three out the van, giving Soul a thumbs up and closing the doors behind himself.

Sighing, Soul sank back into his makeshift seat, settling in as best he could for the long wait.

 

* * *

 

Wes caught up to them just as Maka said, “It’s both. There’s the humanitarian aspect that her research is evil and going to hurt a lot of people, but also I plan to go through it and sell the good parts because, you know… I’m not made of money. Girl’s gotta get bank _somehow_.”

“A ‘good tech in the wrong hands’ kind of situation, then?” Maba asked curiously.

“Pretty much.”

They walked in contemplative silence before Masa said tentatively, “Hey, if you don’t mind me asking - why did Soul think your dad is a cop?”

She buried her face in her hands, mortification burning her ears bright as rubies even in the dark. “Papa regularly walks around in a police officer costume just to fool the neighbors and ‘throw anyone off his tracks.’ So no one thinks he’s a thief, y’know?” 

“You can’t be serious,” Masa said slowly, looking like Christmas came early.

Maka glanced up, her expression turning into tired exasperation. “The first time he came home like that I just went, ‘What? Why? Papa no, Papa _stop_ ,’ and when that was his explanation, I realized that if that’s what his latest girl was into, I really didn’t want to know.” Even Maka chuckled as the other three laughed, unable to _not_ see the hilarity of the situation, even if it was personally embarrassing.

“Hey, M-squad, hurry up or you’ll spend all night chit-chatting outside and never actually get anything.” Wes didn’t even flinch when Soul’s voice crackled to life in his ear, though he winced at the scolding.

“I hate it when you’re right,” he muttered, habitually glancing away from the others as if Soul would be standing at his shoulder. “Also, M-squad? There’s no M in my name?”

“Yours is upside-down - close enough,” Soul replied, snickering. A moment later, the telltale sound of his breathing disappeared as he signed off.

The other three stared at him, confused. Wes sighed and said, “The trackers Soul passed out also work as ear pieces. He’s telling me to hurry up before we miss our window.”

“Your brother really can’t design user interface. He does know that, right?” Maba asked dryly.

“I’ve told him a thousand times. You try it and see what happens if you want to.” Wes shook his head and said, “Anyway, back on track - Maka, how were you planning on getting in?”

She shrugged. “Picking the lock on the front door seemed easiest, honestly. I did research on the laser security and it seemed doable to get past, but I’m assuming that’s not what you were doing?”

“Soul’s already handled the lasers. They should be out for an hour starting in a little bit. Maba and I were going to go up to the roof and unlock one of the skylights with an easy lock to pick, then come down and open the door for Masa. Do you want to just wait with him so it’s less work? We can go our separate ways once we’re inside, then meet up at midnight so you can drive back with us.”

“Sounds good,” she said, giving him double-thumbs up.

And, just like that, they were off.

Maba and Wes made short work of the climb to the roof; despite her age, she was the one in the lead for most of the journey. Wes huffed and puffed behind her, but at least he kept up decently well - no small feat, no matter how much Soul laughed at him for it along the way.

Wes easily picked the lock of their chosen skylight and dropped down first, landing silently in the corridor below. Maba followed after him, closing the skylight behind her. Within seconds, they began to make their way through the house.

They’d laid out and studied this route until it followed them into their dreams, and despite the size of the mansion, it wasn’t long before they were opening a side window and pulling in first Masa, then Maka. The older trio headed off for the wing with the gem hall, while Maka went in the opposite direction with a playful salute and a grin.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t realize they’d tripped an alarm until they heard police sirens wailing in the distance. Soul’s voice was an urgent whisper in Wes’s ear as he hissed, “I don’t know who triggered what, or if she has something disconnected from the mainframe that’s completely unlisted - probably the latter - but you’re up. Get out, now!”

They raced through the hallways, panic pooling in their stomachs. They’d almost reached the back door when Wes collided with something (someone) as he rounded a corner, cradling her instinctively as they crashed to the floor. As they scrambled to their feet, Wes was relieved to see Maka was unhurt, though her eyes were frantic and terror bled from her like light off a neon sign.

Suddenly, light beamed through a window across the hall from them, echoed by the sound of police officers shouting to one another from outside the mansion.

They were out of time, and as Wes looked at his companions' faces, the choice was easy.

 

December 22, 2018 | 00:02:38

Soul stared at his laptop, gauging how close the cops were as the rest of the team piled into the back of the van. Over the car’s groans at each added weight, he muttered irritably, "Where's my dumb brother so we can get this show on the road and make our getaway?"

At the utter silence, he glanced back at the rest of the van.

Maka's face glittered with tear tracks, and Maba was barely holding together any better. Someone said quietly, "He got caught to give us time to escape."

Soul stared, red eyes widening with stunned horror.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of motion as he lunged for the back doors, only for Maka to catch him around the waist before he could jump out of the van.

He screamed and sobbed, voice hoarse with fury and agony, and someone shoved their hand over his mouth to try and stifle the noise before it rendered Wes’s sacrifice pointless - not that it mattered, really, because everyone was yelling anyway. Maba shouted for Masa to take the wheel as Maka begged Soul to _be quiet, please_ , both women pinning Soul to the floor of the van to keep him from leaping out of the now-moving car. By the time they were miles away, he's just lying there, softly, _uselessly,_ crying into the grilled metal flooring - he was always useless when it counted, wasn't he?

Eventually, they let him up. Maka immediately pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around his shoulders like she could somehow shield him. (He wished he had the strength to push her away, but he didn't, even though she’d _left his brother behind_.)

(All of them had just _left_ him.)

Soul wasn't stupid enough to think they forced him, because Soul knew his brother, knew what an idiot he was, and how brave and caring and loyal. Soul knew Wes was too _good_ to let them all get caught, that he would have willingly and easily made that choice, but they were the ones who _let_ him. He hated them for it, in that moment.

The drive back was silent, all two excruciating hours of it, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle. Masa’d barely stopped in the parking lot outside Soul and Maka’s apartment building before Soul was out the door, something cold and furious curling in his chest. 

Maka followed, wanting to leave him in peace but unable to stop herself from hovering. He didn’t snap at her, thankfully, but he did ignore the others’ attempts to talk, every step feeling like a mile as he walked back to his apartment and locked the door behind him.

Standing there, where he’d spent so much time with Wes, was a slap in the face of a reminder, bringing with it another fresh wave of pain.

Soul nearly staggered under the weight of it. 

He wiped at his eyes, biting his lip against more tears and ignoring the gentle knock on the door behind him. “Soul? Do you want to talk?” 

He needed to get to his computer, needed to walk the long steps to his desk and boot it up… The thought of it alone was almost too much, but Soul dragged himself through the motions, every movement mechanical and stilted, and eventually, his door was left alone.


	5. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's brief mention of what probably constitutes a panic attack/anxiety in this chapter - if you want to skip it, it starts at the beginning of this chapter and ends with "Soul took a deep breath, steeled himself..." (yes it's just the first five lines). Nothing too big, but better safe than sorry.

December 22, 2018 | 08:24:55

He was completely alone.

_No, no breakdowns, not now - you don’t have time for it._

He _wasn't_ going tothink about how his stupid brother didn’t deserve this, or how he might get seriously hurt. He _wasn’t_ going to think about how Wes is all Soul had ( _still_ had _,_ Wes wasn’t _dead_ ), and he _wasn't_ going to think about how absolutely furious he still was that their friends (family?) had let him do this.

He wasn't going to think about it. He _wasn't_ , because if he did, he'd panic, and panic made him useless, unable to fix anything.

He _had_ to fix this.

Soul took a deep breath, steeled himself, and carefully buried all the unwanted feelings down in the very bottom of the pit hollowing out his chest, the one with the rest of the things he didn't want to deal with.

When he called Tsu, she didn’t say anything for a long time, even after she picked up. Her quiet, sympathetic silence was somehow more comforting than anybody else’s attempts at words.

“Help me? Please?” he finally said.

“I’m on my way.” The reply was instant, and the sheer readiness of it made Soul… not smile, exactly, but it helped him breath, just a little.

 

December 24, 2018 | 13:15:34

When Soul showed up at Masa’s apartment, Tsu on his heels, both their eyes were hard as diamonds and deadly as vipers.

He opened the door and promptly gaped at them. “Tsu?”

Soul shouldered past him, nodding in satisfaction when he saw Maba stepping out of the kitchen. “Good, we’re gonna need the LSD van.”

“To do what?” Masa asked faintly.

“Break my brother out of prison, obviously,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “C’mon Tsu, help me set up the thing please.”

“Oh, hold on - you’re involved in this crazy scheme now?” Masa demanded, turning to look at his little sister. “I thought you said you were going to keep out of that life.”

“It’s _Wes_ ,” she said flatly. “I can make an exception. Besides, I’ve always worked with Soul.”

“You’ve _what_?”

“Get your butts in here already!” Soul yelled from the dining room, impatient and annoyed.

Masa and Maba could only gape at the sight of Soul’s screen. The cascade of code scrolling down at the speed of light in a side window was one thing - practically the norm, for Soul - but the prison schematics and area maps filling the rest of the screen were entirely new. The camera view of the road leading to the prison didn’t help.

“You’re serious?”

Soul raised an eyebrow dryly. “No, this is for fun.” He didn’t even blink when Tsu poked him, scowling.

“Be nice.”

“I’m never nice.”

“That’s not true.”

“Argue about it later,” ordered Maba, her eyes narrowing as she examined the map. “What’s your plan?”

Soul’s grin turned vicious. “I’m going to shut down half the prison’s mainframe tomorrow for an hour. Wes is smart - he’ll take the opportunity and make a break for it.”

“Are you sure he’ll see it that way?” Masa asked, gently gripping Soul’s shoulder. “As the smart option?”

Soul waved him off. “Nah, he will. We’ve discussed this before. He knows the drill.”

The others stared at him; Masa’s and Tsu’s heads tilted in confusion in eerie sibling synchrony that _did not_ leave Soul’s eyes hot and prickly. “You’ve… discussed what happens if Wes lands in prison?”

“And if he got sent to jail, or detained by the cops for too long. And, of course, what to do if either of the above ever happened to me, though it’s less likely since I’m usually never even on location,” Soul said, ticking the options off on his fingers. “Wait, you guys don’t have backup plans?”

They shook their heads and he looked at them askance. “What are you gonna do if you get caught?”

“Go to prison? I guess?” Masa said slowly, sounding oddly chastised.

Soul shook his head in disgust, turning back to the screen. “Tsu and I handled most of the work. I really only need you guys because I need a ride, and backup if something goes wrong.”

“ _Will_ something go wrong?”

“I mean… probably not? But I’m also running on forty-eight hours of no sleep and you never _think_ things will go wrong until they do - case in point: our current situation - so…”

Now that he’d mentioned it, it was obvious how tired and stressed Soul was, just barely treading the line of constant panic and shutting down completely. His hands were shaking slightly as he pushed his messy hair out of his face again; he jittered in place as if, for once in his life, he was impatient to just get up and _go_ , and the shadows under his eyes were darker than usual. He hadn’t even really bothered to get dressed, standing there in Masa’s living area in just an old hoodie and sweatpants - a far cry from the usual care he put into trying to look effortlessly cool.

Despite his confidence, despite the look in his eyes that said he’d move heaven and raise hell before he let himself be stopped, it was obvious Soul was petrified.

They just stared at him in silence. Soul frowned. “Fine, I’ll figure out my own ride.”

Tsu didn’t even need to glare at Masa to get him moving. “No, no, we’re on board- Right, Maba?”

“Of course we are, we were just surprised,” she agreed, reaching over to brush Soul’s hair out of his face again. For whatever reason, he didn’t push her away.

Tsu smiled warmly, glad and relieved, before turning to Soul. “Okay, they’re going to help us. I’ll catch them up on the rest. Go sleep.”

“But I need to check-”

“Sleep!” she ordered, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him out of the room. “Take the guest room.” Despite everything, Masa couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing her boss him around so completely.

She came back a minute later, cracking her knuckles like she’d had to knock Soul out. Masa honestly wouldn’t put it past her either, not at this point.

Tsu smiled at them brightly. “Time to get to work.”

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Maba and Masa sat at the same table where Soul had unveiled his plan, quietly drinking tea and thinking. It was pushing midnight; Tsu had long since crashed with Soul, the two sleeping together like cats. (Hours ago, she’d said she would go check on him to make sure he was sleeping instead of working or worrying. Masa had gone and checked on them himself when she hadn’t come back, and had been more amused than surprised to find them spooned together with the comfortable ease of childhood friends. He'd tucked the blanket around them and let them sleep, smiling with relief that she was finally getting rest.)

Now, it was just him and the old lady, and Masa really wasn’t sure what to expect anymore.

“What a kid, isn’t he?” he said, watching her nod slowly. “He acts like a clown and then…”

“It’s Wes. Are you that surprised? As if you wouldn’t do the same for Tsu, or her for you.”

“Yeah, but neither of us dress like goth raccoons.”

She laughed. “Give him a break - it’s not like you didn’t make any… questionable decisions when you were that age.”

“At least I did it with _style_ , though I do regret certain fashion choices.”

Maba raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, and Masa busied himself with sipping his tea to avoid her gaze. “I meant more that he’s so good at it. I always forget he’s the one who mostly comes up with the plans between him and Wes.”

“He’s got intelligence behind all the ridiculousness,” she said, eyes sharp and calculating. “And a whole lot of love and determination.”

“If only he could get his style straightened out and not be such a _dork_ all the time.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. “You’re not wrong.”


	6. Epilogue

December 25, 2018 | 16:32:59

"Get your feet off the dashboard." 

“I'll do what I want, old lady. What are you gonna do, curse me? I thought you said you weren’t a witch anymore."

Masa sighs as he listens to their sniping from the back of the van.

“Are you alright?” calls Maba as she turns the car sharply, just in time to catch the turn without having to reverse.

“He’s rocking a Princess and the Pea set up back there, he’s fine,” Soul says. Masa rolls his eyes.

As the car rolls to a stop, shuddering and rattling like a the old-ass van it is, Masa pulls himself to his feet as best he can in the cramped space. He has to hunch over to look out the window, and his jaw drops open at the sight of the prison.

Soul said he would shut down some parts of the mainframe, but now that he can see the utter chaos the prison is in, Masa has a hard time believing that’s _all_ he did.

“What did you even do?” Maba asks, horrified, yet still mostly proud despite her better judgement. “It’s lit up like a Christmas tree!”

Between the flashing searchlights, the vague smell of smoke, and the distant sound of howling dogs and shrieking sirens, Masa has no idea how Wes is standing in front of them, smiling and holding his thumb out like he planned to hitchhike out of prison.

Flipping his aviators down over his eyes, Soul reaches over and begins to manually roll the window down, ignoring Maba’s bewildered expression.

Wes raises an eyebrow, but waits patiently as he watches Soul wrestle with the hand crank, his shoulder working desperately because he doesn’t have the muscle mass to make it look effortless. Eventually, the window stutters and jerks all the way down, and Soul rests his arm where it vanished, trying to pretend he isn’t visibly panting.

“Merry Christmas, you filthy animal,” he gasps, reaching into his pocket. A frown crosses his face as he comes up empty, and Soul visibly resigns himself to checking all of his pockets, awkwardly contorting in his seat until he _finally_ manages to pull out a battered slip of paper and pass it to Wes.

“I imagine the delivery of that was meant to be a lot smoother,” Wes replies dryly, taking it. He glances down, takes one look at the Monopoly “get out of jail free” card, and bursts out laughing so hard he’s doubling over.

“Oh, shut up,” grumbles Soul, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Masa glimpses movement out of the corner of his eye and kicks open the van doors, yelling over Soul’s shoulder, “Get in already, loser!”

Soul cheers. “Yeah, get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Masa gapes at him, bewildered. “What? No- We have cops on our tail! Stop messing around and get in the van, I ain’t going to prison today!”

Wes climbs in and looks around in confusion as Masa swings the doors shut behind him. “Where are the other cushions? Am I supposed to just sit on the floor?”

The car sputters into movement with a jolt that sends Wes careening into the side of the van as Maba tosses over her shoulder, “What do you think the booster seat is for?”

Soul cackles so hard he starts coughing, Wes stares at Maba in stunned horror as he clutches an aching shoulder, and Maba complains loudly as she performs a K-turn on what is effectively a dirt road to go back the way they came. Masa finally shifts over on the cushion pile so Wes can sit next to him and grumbles, “I’m never heisting with you maniacs again. Nothing ever goes to plan - I’ve accepted that. But _this_? This is the worst.”


End file.
